


Come Hellhounds Or High Water

by Knischick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 13,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3454532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knischick/pseuds/Knischick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Bobby may have mentioned he was thinking of getting a dog. He had no idea how much his life would change because of an off hand comment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okie dokie guys, so this is going to come in tiny chapters. My hope is to keep it fairly short and sweet and to update regularly. I don't have the time right now to work on my main fic Fly By Night, but I needed something to alternate with homework assignments and this happened. I certainly hope you enjoy it and I love comments and questions so don't be shy!

Bobby Singer was never letting the Winchesters use his bathroom again. If they ever showed up covered in blood and graveyard dirt, with three days’ worth of stubble and smelling like a bar that’s sewer overflowed again he’d spray them off with the hose in the back yard. They’d come in and ate his food, broke his washing machine, and tracked mud through his house. Then the angel had popped in, silently gawked at Dean toweling the laundry room floor dry in his underwear for a while before announcing his presence with a husky “Hello Dean.” An hour later the brothers were on the road to check on a mysterious boom in the frog population in some little town in Massachusetts. Bobby had offered to have a friend of his look into it, but because Dean was whupped and didn’t even know it they had set off without even a decent night’s sleep. Now Bobby was left all alone to do damage control. Towels were crumpled in the bathroom floor, Sam had forgotten a t-shirt, water was splashed all over the counter and stubble and shaving cream covered the sink. Bobby sighed and got to work.

The little belt on his washer had snapped. Probably because it was old and the weight of denim and mud was too much for it. Bobby was pretty sure he had a belt that would fit, but it might be just a smidgen too big. He wiggled out from behind the dryer to find the King of Hell leaning in the doorframe. “Sonofabitch!” 

“Well good afternoon to you too Robert.” 

“What do you want Crowley?” 

“Why must everyone assume I have ulterior motives? Can’t a demon stop in for a friendly chat?” 

“You always want something. Even if it’s only to insult my liquor and steal my silverware.” 

“I haven’t touched your cutlery in ages.” 

“Again. What do you want?” 

“Simply a break. Hell’s being bothersome.” 

“Hell’s been bothersome a lot lately.” Bobby could tell Crowley wasn’t going anywhere. He had that look on his face, the one that said he needed a few hours of solid complaining about something before he felt up to snuff and ready to deal with whatever Hell threw at him. Bobby could use some complaining himself. “The idjits broke my washer this morning.” Bobby said, gesturing to half dismantled machine beside him. Crowley raised an eyebrow. “The Wondrous Winchesters aren’t still here are they?” 

“Nope. Cas showed up and they took off to the East coast.” 

“Angel said jump and Dean said how high?” 

“Pretty much.” Bobby grunted as he got up. 

“Do you think they’ll ever admit how badly they want to shag each other?” Crowley drawled as he followed Bobby into the kitchen. 

“God I hope so. The staring and the awkwardness is gettin’ on my nerves.” 

“Isn’t it? I feel sorry for Moose sometimes.” Crowley pushed an empty coffee cup away from his usual spot at the kitchen table. Bobby grabbed two tumblers from the cabinet and turned around to find, as expected, a full bottle of Scottish whiskey sitting in the middle of the table. Bobby set the glasses on the table and pulled out his pocket knife. Crowley watched intently as he cut the wax from around the top of the bottle. Bobby had noticed that the demon sometimes got a little too fascinated watching his hands, and he had a feeling he knew why. Castiel wasn’t the only supernatural entity around that had a not so subtle crush on an alcoholic hunter. Bobby wasn’t sure how he felt about it. So mostly he ignored it. Crowley had never pushed the topic, which honestly surprised him, but they both seemed content to leave it be. 

“So. Hell.” Bobby said after he’d poured both of them liberal amounts of whiskey. Crowley groaned and scrubbed his hand across his face. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I thought that’s why you dropped in.” 

“No. Absolutely not. I’d like to stay as far away from the topic as demonically possible.” 

“That bad huh?” 

“And humanly possible, Singer.” 

Bobby chuckled and sat down. “So what do you want to talk about then?” 

Crowley took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know. Flowers, rainbows, puppies? Anything but our respective careers.” 

“Puppies. Now there’s somethin’” 

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “You’re joking.” 

“Naw. I’ve been thinking of getting a dog. I used to have a few strays around here that I fed, but they all wandered off. I haven’t had an actual dog in years. By that I mean one I got on purpose and trained and fed routinely.” 

“Don’t you do that with the Winchesters? What do you need a dog for?” 

“Very funny.” 

“Does that make the angel one of those weird cats that suddenly decides that one particular dog is okay, and no one is allowed to mess with it, and the dog returns the favor all the while being a little bemused by the situation?” 

Bobby tipped his glass at the demon. “Cute but I don’t think either of them would appreciate your analogy.” 

“You really think I care about the opinions of the Righteous Hound and the Kitten of the Lord?” 

“Dammit Crowley, you have not had near enough to drink to be spouting this shit.” 

Crowley swished his empty glass at Bobby. “Then fill it up again.” Bobby did so. 

“So what’s Sam?” He asked after a few minutes of silence. 

“Moose is a moose regardless of the situation” 

“Fair enough.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm gonna see if I can't get a posting schedule of Wednesdays and Saturdays. We'll see. Enjoy!

It had been over a month since the King of Hell had dropped in and Bobby was starting to wonder about him. That was the word he had chosen. Wonder, not worry. The boys had been back, along with an oddly fidgety Castiel. When Bobby asked about it, Dean said, “I don’t know. He’s been off the past few days. He won’t talk about it.” Bobby didn’t pry. They left the next day, heading off to see about some weird “animal” attacks in Missouri. His house was too quiet. He’d talked to other hunters on the phone of course, and it seemed something odd was brewing in regards to some pagan gods that should be dead, but he hadn’t had a visitor in over a week. 

The old book he was flipping through smelled irritatingly of cloves and rat shit, and he really needed to get up and get another beer. He glanced up at the clock. Five already? Definitely time for another beer. He opened the fridge and peered in. Not much in there but beer, he should go to the store tomorrow. He grabbed a bottle and turned back to the living room. 

“Hello, Robert.” Crowley lounged on the desk chair like it was his throne. There were little moments sometimes when it really struck Bobby that the demon ran Hell. Every miserable inch of it. Every demon Bobby had ever fought in his life was a peasant compared to the one currently sitting in his chair with a lopsided grin. And he had missed him. Quite a bit. 

“Where the hell have you been?” 

“Hell.” 

“Really? What were you doing there?” 

“Oh, you know, the usual. 

“It’s been a while since you dropped in. You must have been busy.” 

“I was. But I must say I missed your company. For having to deal with idiots all the time, my work can be surprisingly lonely.” 

Bobby sank down onto the couch. “Same here. It’s good to see you.” 

They looked at each other, taking in what they had just said. Acknowledging their odd relationship without actually discussing it. Crowley shifted in his seat and suddenly he didn’t look like a king anymore. He looked like a nervous man about to propose something he wasn’t sure would be appreciated. “I, um. I brought you something.” He said. Bobby raised an eyebrow. 

“Really? You know you don’t have to announce when you bring me booze, I’m used to it by now.” 

“It’s not alcohol.” Crowley swiveled the desk chair to face Bobby and scooped up a furry, black lump that had been resting on his lap. “It’s a puppy.” 

Bobby smiled in surprise and set his beer down by the lamp. “What is that, pit bull Labrador mix?” 

Crowley made his way to the couch and sat down. “Not exactly.” Closer to the light, Bobby could see something was off. Even as the puppy wagged its tail at him its eyes shone unnaturally, pools of eerie red-black. Bobby crossed his arms and frowned at the demon. Really, what did he expect? 

“Is that a hellhound?” 

“Technically she’s a mutt.” 

“I figured since I can see it.” 

“It’s a she Robert, and her name is Xenia.” 

Bobby had to chuckle at that. “You named a hellhound the Greek word for hospitality?” 

Crowley cradled her closer to his chest. “I thought it was a clever name for a guard dog.” 

“Hand her over.” 

Crowley shifted and deposited her into Bobby’s arms. The smell of cologne and scotch and just the barest hint of sulfur lingered even after Crowley moved away. That smell really shouldn’t be so comforting, and the baby monster sniffling sleepily at his beard really shouldn’t stay. 

“Hello Xenia.” He cooed softly, stroking the jet black fur. She cocked her head at him, her ears perked. His hard heart melted a little. “Aren’t you a pretty girl? Are you gonna be big and scary when you grow up? You better be - the raccoons around here are vicious.” He glanced over to find Crowley watching them adoringly. Bobby cleared his throat and said gruffly, “You’re helping train her.” 

“Well of course.” 

“That means no disappearing for a month at a time without at least warning me first.” 

“I’ll make sure to give you twenty four hour notice.” 

“Good.” 

Crowley reached over and scratched behind her ears. A thought suddenly struck Bobby. “Does she have any sort of abilities? She won’t try to drag any of my visitors off to Hell will she?” 

Crowley smirked at him. “Only if we train her to. And no, no abilities aside from being a bit more powerful than an average dog.” 

“How powerful we talkin’?” 

Crowley shrugged. Bobby looked down at the tiny hellhound on his lap, then back up at the scruffy demon sitting a little too close for propriety. His life was going to Hell. And not in the usual way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I missed Saturday's posting because I was visiting my brother in Columbus. I'm going to try and work on Fly By Night over spring break. I won't be posting Saturday or next Wednesday as I will be in D.C. So, two new chapters today, one chapter posted this Wednesday, then nothing until the twenty first. I'm aiming for a Thursday posting for Fly By Night, for those of you waiting on that. Enjoy!

One week later Bobby was exhausted. He’d had to clean all the books off his floor because Xenia chewed on them. He’d hardly gotten any sleep because she whined and wanted up on his bed which he wasn’t going to allow. She had a bed in the kitchen but he’d given her an old comforter to sleep on in the floor of his room. He knew to pick his battles. He’d found an old wiffle ball he’d bought for Sam and Dean when they were kids and was delighted to find the puppy picked up on fetch so quickly. “What did you expect?” Crowley commented dryly, “She’s a hellhound – fetching’s in her blood.” The demon had taken a turn throwing the ball down the hallway while Bobby got some research done. Something fishy was definitely going on with those gods. He decided to call Sam and get them over to help sort things out. They’d killed half the gods themselves so Bobby figured they should be in on figuring out why they were coming back. When he hung up with Sam he went and found Crowley. 

“Guess what?” He asked of the demon. Crowley had sat down in the hallway floor and was scrubbing Xenia’s ears, the ball forgotten. “Santa’s not real.” Crowley said, smirking up at him. Bobby snorted, “Well yeah, but not what I’m talking about.” 

“You asked me to guess.” 

“Metaphorical question, but I know you were just being an ass. I just got off the phone with Sam, and you know how I told you Cas has been actin’ weird? Well, turns out he’s molting.” 

“Oh dear.” Crowley chuckled. 

“Yeah, and Sam is so excited about it. I think he’s writing stuff down.” 

“He would.” 

“They’re headed up here to help me out with the god thing.” 

“Are you asking me to leave?” 

“No. Just warning ya. Dean has a tendency to be snappish when someone he cares about is sick, and I know how you two are.” 

“Why, when are we anything but cordial with each other?” 

“Every time you’re in the same room. At least in my experience.” 

“Point taken. But at the same time we could be much worse. I for one admire our restraint.” 

“Yeah well, try not to rib him too much about fussing over Cas alright? The kid grew up mothering both Sam and John. He doesn’t know how to do casual caretaking. If you belittle that you will not be welcome in my home while they are here you understand?” 

“I understand Robert.” Crowley looked at him soulfully from his position on the floor. “I never pick at the Winchester’s true vulnerabilities unless it’s absolutely necessary to manipulate them.” 

“Well ain’t you a saint.” Bobby started to turn back to the living room. 

“I’m a demon darling.” Crowley said softly. “I think we both tend to forget that.” 

Bobby looked down at the King of Hell slumped against the wall in the hallway, tie askew with an exhausted puppy asleep in his lap. “It’s a very easy thing to do.” Bobby said with a fond smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short. After looking things over I split it from the rest of its chapter, I should have combined it with the other one, but oh well. Enjoy!

“You got a puppy!” Within moments Sam had tossed his bag aside and thrown himself down in the floor. He enthusiastically petted Xenia while she wagged her tail and tried to lick his face. 

“What the hell Bobby!?” 

“That is not a dog.” 

“Don’t you people knock?” Bobby grumbled. He dried his hands on a towel as he glared at his three new arrivals. 

“And you.” He said pointing at the puppy. “Are a guard dog. Act like it.” She was too busy trying to catch a bit of Sam’s hair to notice he was talking to her. 

“When did this happen?” Dean asked gesturing at his brother and the dog. “What possessed you to get a puppy?” 

“Crowley.” Cas stated. “That animal is part hellhound. Given Bobby’s familiar relationship with the demon it was likely a gift from him.” 

“The angel’s right.” Bobby said, leaning against the door frame. “I might have told him I was thinking of getting a dog and he decided to help me out.” 

“By giving you a freaking hellhound!?” 

“I think she’s adorable.” Sam broke in. 

“You’ve never been dragged to hell by one of them.” 

“Aw c’mon Dean. Look at this pretty face. Eerie black eyes and all, you got to admit it’s pretty cute. What’s its name?” 

“It’s a she and her name is Xenia.” 

“Like the town in Ohio?” Dean asked. 

“Like the word for hospitality.” 

“Because she’s a guard dog.” Cas said with a smile. He was sort of leaning on Dean. He looked tired. 

“You alright there kid?” Bobby asked him. 

Cas opened his mouth to respond but Dean said, “Don’t you dare say you’re fine.” Cas frowned at him. “I’m hungry and tired and my wings are annoying but other than that I am doing alright. How are you Bobby?” Bobby smiled at the fond exasperation in Cas’ voice. Dean must be driving him nuts with his fussing. 

“Well I’m just peachy. Unfortunately so are a few ancient gods that got no business being alive. Why don’t you all take your stuff up to the guest rooms and then we’ll get started.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another fic going on parallel to this one that is sort of a Destiel prologue, so if anything confuses you in this hopefully it can be cleared up in that one. I haven't posted it yet, it's almost done and I want to put it up all at once. Regardless feel free to ask me questions about Cas' molt, it might help me out. Also Fly By Night update coming tomorrow!   
> Enjoy!

Research was not going well. Sam was currently on puppy duty and was enthusiastically throwing the ball around with all sorts of “good girls” and alarming thumps and heavy footsteps. Crowley was puttering around in the kitchen whistling and preparing god knows what for lunch. Cas was sprawled across the couch on his stomach, his feet in Dean’s lap, attempting to read a leather bound journal from the civil war, which detailed how some guy named Button took out one of their gods before. Bobby himself had read it multiple times and didn’t know why the angel was bothering with it except that it allowed him to remain in his current position. Dean was poring over police reports, frowning and shaking his head. Every now and then, he’d reach out and absently stroke the air over Cas like he was playing some invisible harp. He was playing with Cas’ feathers, Bobby knew, because they’d been forced to explain Cas’ molt to him. 

Not long after they had arrived and Xenia had a free moment away from her new friend Sam, she had noticed Cas. Or more specifically Cas’ wings. And had proceeded to pounce on them with all her tiny might. Cas had yelped and practically climbed Dean in order to get away from her. He had ended up standing on the kitchen table, the wide eyed Winchester stuck between him and the hellhound. Both Sam and Crowley were almost in the floor with laughter. “What the hell is going on?” Bobby had demanded. As it turned out Dean and Cas were some sort of angel Bond Mates and only Dean could groom Cas during his molt. He should have been the only one able to physically affect Cas’ wings, but it turned out there were two in that category – one human, one canine. “Hellhounds have always been able to attack angels.” Crowley put in amusedly. “They just normally aren’t able to get close enough to do it.” 

Ever since someone had been stuck on puppy entertainment duty in order to keep her away from Cas. 

“Oh, Robert darling I need you to taste this. Moose refused to.” Crowley appeared in the doorway wearing the apron Jody had gotten Bobby for Christmas as a gag gift. It declared “Hot Stuff Coming Through” and was a horrid yellow. Bobby had never worn it and had almost convinced himself it didn’t exist. Unfortunately the image of Crowley holding a spoon with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows while wearing the thing was now fully etched in his mind. Crowley made his way to the desk blowing on the contents of the spoon. Dean let out a low whistle. “First I see an angel in too big pajamas and now a demon in a novelty apron. You guys have officially lost whatever fear inducing vibe you ever had.” 

Surprisingly Crowley didn’t say anything, just held the spoon to Bobby’s mouth. Bobby eyed the brown stuff suspiciously. “That chili?” 

Crowley nodded. “I Googled the recipe.” Bobby accepted the bite. 

“Hmm.” Bobby looked up at the demon with a smirk. “Needs salt.” 

Crowley ‘hmmed’ back at him. “Yes, well. You don’t.” 

“Good Lord. You’ve been cutting back my sodium for weeks now haven’t you?” 

‘You’ve just now noticed?” 

“I wondered where all my salt shakers went.” 

“I’m certain I don’t know.” 

“You know where all the vegetables in my fridge came from?” 

“Not the foggiest.” 

“Sure.” 

“I am however responsible for that eyeglasses chain around your neck. For which you’re welcome.” 

“It’s sparkly and purple asshole.” 

“And you look lovely. And if you go look in the mirror you can see how dashing you are because, lo and behold, you can actually find your glasses!” 

“Oh my god.” Dean said. “Geriatric flirting. This so wrong. And weird.” 

Bobby and Crowley glared at him. Cas even swatted him on the shoulder. “Don’t be rude.” 

“You want to talk about what’s weird?” Crowley said. “How about we talk about how you and the angel went broody? Heaven know about that yet?” 

“Crowley..” Bobby warned. 

“They do not.” Cas said. He shifted and sat up. “I haven’t told them. I don’t feel it’s yet appropriate to do so.” 

Crowley frowned. “Are you saying it’s still early? And a human was able to pick up on it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh. That’s a pretty strong bond.” 

“It is.” It was clear there was some kind of silent understanding between them, and Dean and Bobby looked at each other confused. 

“So. Who wants lunch?” Crowley asked, dropping the subject completely.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie doke, so this is a day behind because AO3 told me it didn't exist yesterday. It would seem they've got their servers in order now so we're good to go. I'm thinking of doing some prompts for short stuff on tumblr, if you all would like to send some my way that would be awesome! I need the practice. It's Knischick on there as well, I separated it just for writing recently so there's nothing really on there right now, I need to fill it up! Or you can leave ideas in the comments. I'd really like to write a Donna/Jody fic but I need ideas. Anyway, enjoy!

It wasn’t that late but surprisingly the younger three had already shut themselves up in their rooms for the night. Bobby had no doubt in his mind they were still awake, Sam probably still surfing the internet, Cas and Dean – who knows. Something fundamental had shifted in their relationship but Bobby wasn’t sure to what extent. He returned to the living room to find Crowley still staring pensively into the fireplace. Xenia was curled up at his feet. 

“What’s the glum face for?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Aw don’t give me that. If it really was nothing you’d be acting like an ass instead of a mopey idjit. So what is it?” 

Crowley looked up at him. “I don’t want to leave.” 

“So don’t.” Bobby said. 

Crowley smiled slightly. “I’ve already been here a full week. Hell requires my attention.” 

“Then attend to it. You know you’re always free to drop by.” 

Crowley stood, a strange look in his eyes. “That’s the problem Robert. I’m tired of ‘dropping by’.” 

“What? You bored or something? You just gonna ditch me and the dog?” 

Crowley took a step closer. “Quite the opposite. I just… I can’t keep flitting in and out anymore. This week has been the happiest one I’ve had in ,well – forever. So it’s up to you, whether I leave or stay. If I leave I leave for good. If I stay..” The demon was kissing him before Bobby could process what was going on. He froze wide eyed in shock. Crowley pulled back and they stared at each other in silence for a moment. Crowley dipped his head. “Good bye Robert.” 

Bobby grabbed at his sleeve. “Wait.” Crowley didn’t look up but allowed himself to be pulled closer. “I want you to stay. I do. I’d like nothing better. I just wasn’t expecting that. Hey. Look at me.” 

Crowley finally looked up. Their noses were practically brushing. Bobby continued. “I’ve wanted this for a while. I just think we should take this slow alright? You’re asking for a big change.” He leaned in and kissed Crowley on the forehead. 

“So I can stay?” The demon asked quietly. 

“You can stay, you beautiful idjit.” Bobby wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. They’d been tiptoeing around their feelings for far too long and Bobby was happy it was finally out in the open. They had a lot they needed to discuss but for now Bobby was content to rest his cheek on the shorter man’s head and hold him. 

* 

When Sam Winchester snuck downstairs around two o’ clock in the morning to get a drink of water the only thing he was worried about was waking Xenia up. She had a bed in the kitchen next to the fridge. Sam didn’t know that she normally slept in Bobby’s room, so he wasn’t too overly surprised when she meandered out of the living room when he made too much noise on the stairs. “Hey, baby.” He whispered. “What were you doing in there huh? Not chewing things up I hope.” Her response was to sniff his leg and wag her tail sleepily. He bent down and scooped her up. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’m going to check anyway okay?” She wiggled her nose into the crook of his arm and he smiled. He was really happy Bobby had gotten a dog. He had always wanted one, and even if Xenia wasn’t his he would still get so see her often enough. He peeked into the living room, ready to do damage control on whatever mess the puppy may have made. He was not expecting to find Bobby and Crowley asleep on the couch, the two looking uncomfortably squished together. Sam really should have been more surprised, but not twenty four hours ago he’d found his brother and Cas is the same sort of situation so oddly it didn’t affect him much. Crowley’s head rested on Bobby’s chest and he had an arm slung around him. Bobby’s hand clutched the back of the demon’s shirt. Sam watched them snore for a minute before turning back to the kitchen and getting his water, Xenia still in his arms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a plot for this thing now! Yay! Fly By Night is coming along pretty well too. However, this is probably the last chapter I'll be posting for a little bit because I've got midterm projects to work on, a book to read and a script to memorise. However feel free to comment or prompt anytime! I do love hearing from you guys! Enjoy!

Seven hours later Bobby’s house was loud and bustling. Jody had stopped by with questions about a case the next county over that a friend of hers was investigating. She was fairly certain it was a vampire, but wanted the facts double checked before she intervened in the guy’s case. Bobby’s table was not made to fit so many people around it. The only one standing was Dean who was flipping pancakes and singing “No One Like You” at Cas who was dubiously drinking coffee and listening to Jody and Sam discuss the case. The two were rather squished together but didn’t seem to mind. Crowley was checking his phone and Bobby was throwing the ball for Xenia. 

“The guy knows me Sam, I can’t just go in there and take away his case. He asked for my help, but he doesn’t know anything about the supernatural world, and I want to keep it that way. He’s just the kind of idiot who would run off and become a hunter if he knew. No offense.” 

“None taken.” The Winchester’s said in unison. 

“So maybe I can distract him, steer the case in another direction and you guys can take care of the nest or something so he doesn’t end up like his John Doe?” 

“Sounds like a plan. Dean?” 

“Good with me.” 

“Bobby?” Jody asked. 

“Sorry y’all but I’m out. I’m making phone calls today. There’s gods wreaking havoc in Ohio now.” 

“Oh well we can’t have that.” Jody said with a smile. “Either of you fellas interested?” She asked Cas and Crowley. 

“Heavens no.” Crowley said, glancing distastefully at the crime scene photos that were scattered across the table. “I’ve got to dash and he’s molting.” 

Jody turned to Cas curiously. “How’s that going?” 

“Slow.” He answered. Dean laughed. 

“And messy.” He added, twirling the spatula at them. “You think his hair is a disaster, you should see his wings.” 

“So do you molt like a bird does? How does that work exactly?” She asked. Cas looked thoughtful for a minute. 

“It is rather difficult to explain. I believe it would take up too much time at present, since you need to leave soon. If you would like, I could tell you about it when you get back.” 

Jody smiled amusedly at him. “Sounds like a plan.” 

“Yo, Sam. Grab the syrup. First batch of pancakes are done.” 

* 

Once the sheriff and the Winchesters had left, Crowley interrupted Bobby’s dish doing. “I gotta go love. Hell calls. But I’ll be back about six, how does that sound?” 

“Sounds good. I’d tell you to have a nice day, but well it’s Hell.” 

“I appreciate the sentiment regardless.” Crowley shifted where he stood. Bobby knew what he wanted but wasn’t about to ask for. 

“Come ‘ere you.” Bobby said. He placed his wet, sudsy hand on the side of the other man’s face and pulled him in for a kiss. Crowley put an arm around his waist and deepened it. It was strange, kissing someone after so many years, especially kissing someone with scruff. The last time Bobby had ever made out with a guy had been during the peach fuzz and gangly limbs stage. Now he was in the grey hair and paunchy belly and the getting up in the middle of the night to piss stage of life, and he was kissing a demon. Oh how times had changed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is early and a little longer than usual. Cas started talking about souls. Anyway let me know if I should tag this any different. Things are about to take off now so be prepared. Anyway enjoy!

Once Crowley had left and Bobby had finished washing the dishes he went to find Cas. Bobby had multiple things he needed to talk to the angel about. Not least of which was Dean. If their relationship had shifted like his and Crowley’s had, it was likely Dean would hit a full Winchester freak out soon enough. Cas needed to be warned. Cas also needed to tell him just what was going on with his molt that Crowley understood. Bobby had asked Crowley of course, and he had told him to talk to the angel. Bobby knocked on the closed guest room door. As he had suspected, the trio had only bothered with two rooms and Sam being the messy moose that he was, was quite obviously the occupant of the room across the hall. 

“Come in.” 

Cas was sitting cross legged in the bed, files and books scattered around him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Hello Bobby.” 

“Hiya Cas. You got a minute?” 

“Of course.” 

Although he had seen him out of his usual uniform this morning, albeit wearing one of Dean’s shirts, and Sam’s way too big pajama bottoms it still felt odd. It was easy not to look past the suit and trench combo and ignore the rest of him. Bobby realized his vessel was probably a few years older than Dean, while Bobby always considered them the same age. Bobby shuffled awkwardly over to the bed. “How you feeling kid?” 

“Not bad right now. Earlier I was nauseous so Dean brought me a ‘thunder bucket’ as he called it. It’s just the trash can out of Sam’s room.” 

Bobby chuckled. The faded green metal trash can sat empty beside the bed. “Yeah, they’ve both used that as a thunder bucket a time or two.” 

Cas cocked his head. “Why is it being referred to as a thunder bucket? What does that mean?” 

“Let’s just say when you use it you’ll know.” Bobby said with a wink. He sat down on the edge of the bed. “So, you gonna be okay with them gone for a while?” 

“I’ll be fine. I have a phone and granola bars and water. And you’re within shouting distance in case of emergency.” 

“Dean run through all that before he left?” 

Cas smiled. “Yes. Several times. He was rather reluctant to go.” 

“I imagine. You’re basically holed up here with morning sickness.” 

“I’m not pregnant.” Cas said defensively. 

“I never said you were. And I’m honestly surprised you know what morning sickness is.” Bobby said, baffled by the angel’s response. “Wait. Can you be? Pregnant that is?” 

Cas dropped his eyes to the papers in front of him. “Yes.” 

“Well ain’t that something. I didn’t know angels did that.” 

“Not often.” Cas said, stacking the books in front of him. “We’re only fertile during our molt and we only replace angels that have been killed. We’re not like humans; our population does not typically grow.” 

“That’s interesting. You tell Sam and Dean about this?” 

“Yes.” 

“They know about Nephilim?” 

Cas seemed startled by the question. “You talked to Crowley.” 

“Nah, he told me to talk to you. Is that something you should be worried about what with having a human bond or whatever?” 

Cas flushed pink. “Possibly. Although I don’t think Dean and I are compatible to that extent.” 

Bobby cleared his throat. “Alright. Just make sure you two use protection or whatever.” 

Cas squinted at him. “What sort of protection?” Bobby couldn’t believe he was talking about this with an angel. 

“You know, a condom or something.” 

Cas smiled, even though he turned a darker shade of red. “We haven’t – that’s not how it works.” 

“Enlighten me then.” 

Cas huffed thoughtfully. “I’m not exactly sure what’s involved with a Nephilim, they don’t happen often and I never really paid attention when it did. But when another angel is formed it’s a merging of essence and grace. The molting angel holds that within their grace until the angel is fully formed. Then the new angel is treated like any other. It’s very simple. However, not any angel can pair with another. They have to be Nesting Mates.” Cas held up a finger to quiet Bobby when he opened his mouth to speak. “Dean is, as far as I know, a Bond Mate, that’s different. I’ve had several Bond Mates in my life, although not for every molt.” 

“So you don’t have to worry about it then, since Dean’s a different type of mate person.” 

Cas shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a Nesting Mate, I don’t know how different it is from a Bond. However, Dean’s human and a human Bond is extremely rare, the likelihood of him being a Nesting Mate is rarer still.” 

“So basically it’s unlikely but you don’t know.” 

The angel nodded. Bobby scratched his beard. “Well ain’t that just dandy. But you have to consciously merge essence or whatever right?” 

Cas sighed and leaned back. Some of the newspaper clippings slid under his knee. “Angels do. But we keep our grace to ourselves, unless we are healing or smiting. Humans are different. You are all constantly touching souls. You don’t even realize you’re doing it. The concept of an aura, that’s the soul reaching out. Sam and Dean’s souls are almost constantly communicating with each other - brushing, pushing, searching. Your soul is one that is often checking on things, much like Dean’s and like Jody. The three of you this morning, your souls were constantly…” He paused, looking for the right word. “It’s like you pat others on the shoulder, or feel a fevered forehead. I’m used to Dean checking, evaluating. Having three of you doing that was distracting.” 

“What about Sam?” 

“Sam’s soul is more settled. When he reaches out it’s with purpose and for much longer periods of time. It’s more like holding hands. It is intense and contemplative. Sam’s soul very rarely reaches out to me, but when it does I can’t ignore it. Dean on the other hand, is easy to ignore as he reaches out lightly and often. Although it did startle me at first. Souls normally shy away from grace.” 

“That’s all very interesting but it didn’t answer my question. Is that going to be a problem?” 

“As long as I don’t respond I don’t believe it will be.” 

“Do you normally respond?” 

“Quite often although not always.” 

“Great.” Bobby stood. The conversation had gone very different from what he had been expecting but the need to warn Cas about Dean was even greater now. “Listen kid. I know you two have some sort of ‘profound bond’ but given this dramatic change in your relationship Dean’s likely to panic at some point. He’ll get flustered about his emotions and probably run off and make stupid decisions. I don’t want you to take that personally, Dean’s just an emotionally constipated idjit.” 

“I will take that under advisement.” 

“Good.” Bobby shuffled toward the door. “Feel free to come downstairs anytime. Just be quiet until you know whether or not I’m on the phone.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so my posting schedule is shot. But I've told myself no internet tomorrow because I've got to finish this freaking book for class, so a Friday chapter it is. Anyway, things are gearing up! Enjoy.

Bobby got a text message on his cell just as he was hanging up from the fifth county corner of the day. 

Crowley: _You busy?_

Bobby: _A little where r u_

Crowley: _Hell. And we really must get you a phone with a decent keyboard._

Bobby: _U get service in hell_

Crowley: _And wifi. One of my demons stumbled across the goddess Pomona in Nashville. You should have someone look into that._

Bobby: _Ok_

Bobby added her to the list. Virtually every two bit pagan any hunter had taken out in the last fifty years was back. And obviously not of their own accord. He’d dug through books and called in favors but he still had no idea who or what could possibly be behind the resurrections. A few of the gods did have a tendency to come back from time to time, but not with the frequency that had been going on this last month. 

He was on the phone with a security guard from the Lucky Lady Casino in Montana when Cas rushed down the stairs. “Something is wrong.” He declared. 

“I’m sorry but I’m afraid I’m going to have to call you back.” Bobby said eyeing Cas. “An associate of mine just came in with time sensitive information… Yes… Thank you for your time.” Bobby slammed the phone back in is cradle. “What’s the matter kid?” 

“Something is wrong.” 

“So you said.” 

“Dean’s hurt.” 

“They call you or something?” 

“No. I feel it. He’s hurt.” Cas looked seriously distressed. 

“How bad?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You grounded or something? Why don’t you fly there?” 

“If I fly, I won’t have the energy to heal him. If his injuries are bad I’m not sure I can do much as is.” 

Bobby’s phone rang. Cas strode to the desk as he answered. 

“Hey, boy.” 

“Bobby.” Sam said, out of breath. “That wasn’t a vampire. I don’t know what it is but it’s not that. Dean’s hurt, I’m hurt, there’s a cow hurt. Jody’s not answering her phone. I think she’s alright though. That was not a vampire Bobby! Dean’s bleeding. The cow’s bleeding. My head hurts. No, Dean sit down. I don’t know cow first aid. You think Jody knows? Dean? No. Give it back!” Dean’s voice came on over the phone. “Heya Bobby.” 

“You alright?” Bobby asked. 

“I’m fine.” Dean said. “Got a few cracked ribs and a stab wound, but I’ve had worst. Sam got conked on the head pretty hard. I’m pretty, pretty sure he’s concussed.” Dean’s speech was slightly slurred which concerned Bobby but not as much as Sam’s rambling had. 

“You good to drive or should I call Jody?” 

“Like Sam said. She’s not answering, but her phone was low on battery. Try the station. She should be there. Probably not much farther though. Sam leave the cow alone.” 

“Yeah, no. You two stay there. I’m going to call Jody. You keep each other conscious until she gets there alright? 

“Alright.” Dean said. “Don’t tell Cas. Don’t want him to worry.” 

“He already knows.” 

“Shit.” By his side Cas was clenching his hands and listening intently. “You know what?” Bobby said. “You’re gonna talk to him until Jody gets there alright? He’s going to keep you awake and you’re going to keep Sam awake. Okay, kid?” 

“Okay.” 

Cas grabbed the phone eagerly. “Dean. What’s going on?” 

Bobby grabbed the phonebook and set to finding the station’s number.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! So glad to be working on this again. I'll be posting a brand spankin' new story tomorrow that has Jody/Donna (I haven't seen a ship name for it yet, if you guys know of one can you let me know?) and Crobby as well. I'm hoping to work on some more Jody/Donna - there's not near enough of it. Anyway, enjoy!

Bobby and Cas were out the door as soon as they heard Jody pull up the driveway. Sam unfolded himself from the passenger seat and staggered forward toward the house. Bobby grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him. “Hey, boy. Look at me. Sam.” Bobby smacked him lightly on the cheek to get his attention. Sam finally looked down at Bobby. His eyes were shot, the right pupil slightly bigger than the left. He was pale and clammy. Blood covered his shirt, but it must have been Dean’s because after a brief check Bobby didn’t notice anything else wrong with Sam except the head injury. 

“Where’s your hat?” Sam asked. 

“What?” 

“Where’s Dean?” 

“Jody’s helping him out if the car.” 

Bobby glanced over to where Jody had Dean’s arm slung over her shoulder. She eased him up from the backseat and Cas slipped in under his other arm. 

“You look terrible.” Sam told his brother, leaning heavily on Bobby. 

“Is it all the blood?” Dean replied snarkily. 

“Alright you two. In the house.” Bobby said. He guided Sam in and set him on the couch. He directed Jody and Cas to the kitchen. “Better lighting and I don’t want him dripping on the upholstery.” They got Dean settled at the table. 

Bobby pointed at Cas. “You. Go get the first aid kit out of the second floor bathroom. I’m going to need warm water and some rags too. Got it?” Cas nodded and darted off. 

“Jody, I need you to check Sam out. Let me know how bad that concussion is and see if there’s anything else wrong with him.” 

“On it.” 

“Dean look at me.” Dean looked up. He was way too pale and his breathing was irregular but he didn’t appear to have a concussion. His flannel was tied messily around his torso; the already red shirt just emphasized the blood. “I don’t think I loss as much as it look likes.” Dean said. He was slurring pretty bad. 

“Hey, kid.” Bobby asked him. “How many people were in the house this morning?” 

“Six. Not countin’ the dog.” 

“What’s the dog’s name?” 

“Xenia.” 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” 

Dean blinked rapidly, but answered correctly. “Seven.” 

“Alright. When Cas gets back, we’re gonna get you up on the table, you think you can handle that? We need to get you lyin’ down and elevate your feet, so your heart doesn’t have as hard a time. Then I’m gonna get you cleaned up, sew you up and then you’re going to bed. Got it?” 

“Got it. Sam?” 

“We’ll see what Jody thinks and go from there.” 

“’Kay” 

Cas returned with the first aid kit and some towels. 

“Hey babe. You alright?” 

“That’s hardly relevant given your state. The better question is, are you?” 

Dean shrugged and winced. “Been better, been worse.” 

Jody peeked her head in. “Sam’s got a serious concussion, a sprained ankle, and some heavy bruising. He needs to be checked out for internal bleeding. What should I tell the hospital?” 

“Nothing. Cas here is going to fix him up.” Bobby said. 

“I can’t heal them both.” 

“Fix Sam. Internal bleeding is worse than external bleeding.” 

“Bobby’s right. Brain stuff is bad. Help Sam.” Dean reached out to pat Cas on the arm but missed, his hand swiping the air in front of him. 

“Alright.” Cas said wearily, frowning at Dean’s lack of coordination. “But I won’t be much use to you after. It will tire me.” 

“That’s fine. Jody. Can you get some hot water? And then help me with Dean?” 

Bobby gingerly peeled away the flannel tied around Dean’s torso while Jody got water. Thankfully not much blood came gushing out with the pressure removed. “Alright kid, can you lift your arms for me?” Dean did so with a grimace and Bobby peeled the t-shirt up over his head. The gash along his side wasn’t deep, but it was in a spot where it would be easy to tear the stitches Bobby was about to put in. Dean would be out for the count for probably about six weeks, something that would likely drive the younger hunter stir crazy. 

“Alright, let’s get you up here.” 

Dean cussed up a storm as they eased him up on the table which assured Bobby of his health. If he was really hurt, Dean got quiet. 

“Alright kid. You want something to bite down on or are you good?” 

“I’m good.” 

Bobby got a rag wet and wiped him down. The last time Bobby had patched Dean up had been two months after Sam left for Stanford. He’d gotten in a fight with two guys bigger and more sober than him. 

Sam entered the kitchen trailed by Cas. “You good now kid?” Bobby asked. 

“Yeah. Still have a bit of a headache, but I’m fine now thanks to Cas.” The angel wove his way past Sam and Jody to sit down heavily at the table by Dean’s elbow. 

“Hi.” Dean said lightly and reached his hand out towards Cas’ face. Cas grabbed his hand in his instead and tucked both their hands under his chin. “Hi.” 

Xenia chose that moment to appear in the doorway looking bleary eyed and concerned. She wagged her tail uncertainly and sniffed at the air. Sam scooped her up as soon as she wandered farther into the kitchen. “No, you need to stay out of here baby.” He said. “I’m going to take Xenia outside to keep her out of your hair Bobby. Unless you need me to hold Dean’s other hand and kiss his boo-boos.” That last bit was directed at Dean who lifted his head to glare at Sam. “How about you come over here and you kiss my ass, bitch.” 

“Now, now boys. Behave.” Jody broke in. She turned to Bobby. “I’m going to go back to that barn and take a look around. That cow had puncture wounds that didn’t look like a vamp to me. I’d appreciate it if you could call in a few favors, get a few more hands on deck, and then we’ll set to finding this thing.” 

“Alright.” Bobby said. “Just be careful. And take Sam with you. Now that he’s got his head back he might be useful.” 

“Thanks Bobby.” Sam rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to do with Xenia then?” 

“There’s a baby gate in the basement. Go get it and set it up in the doorway so she can’t get in here.” 

“Why do you have a baby gate?” Sam asked. 

“You.” Dean chuckled, then grimaced. 

Bobby nodded with a smile. “You were a menace.” 

Jody laughed. “Well then. Chop, chop ya menace. We need to get back there before someone else stumbles across your mess and thinks someone got murdered.” 

“Only partly.” Bobby said, glancing back at Dean’s injuries. 

“Oh. Ha, ha.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Be safe you two. Don’t hesitate to call me if you find anything freaky.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, if you know of any goddesses I could include in this, I could really use some suggestions. I need a lot more pagan gods than I've got right now. Anyway, enjoy!

“Well, hello Sheriff. What a pleasure. You look lovely as always.” 

Jody rolled her eyes at the demon. Bobby was almost done wrapping her hand. “I look like death warmed over, but thanks.” She said. 

“Trust me you don’t. Although that is quite the shiner you’re working on there.” Crowley strode over and kissed Bobby on top of the head. “Fill me in darling.” 

“What we thought was a vampire is likely a harpy. Although they don’t normally drain their victims of blood, which is odd. Everything else they told me adds up. She stabbed Dean and broke a few ribs and gave Sam a concussion. Cas healed Sam. He went with Jody to check out the barn again. She ambushed them and now Sam’s got a gash on his arm I spent an hour gettin’ gravel out of and a dislocated shoulder. Jody here – well you can see.” 

“Has a broken wrist and a black eye I’ve got to explain at work tomorrow.” Jody said. 

“Sounds delightful. Where’s our dog?” 

“With Sam. Cuddled up together watching Net-flicks or whatever it’s called.” 

“You’re technically right.” Jody said. “But I can hear the hyphen in that.” 

“So?” 

“So, while you’re correct, you’re also wrong.” Crowley said. “I’ll show it to you later. We can marathon John Wayne movies or something.” 

“The King of Hell has a Netflix account?” Jody asked. 

“I’m very technologically savvy.” 

“Alright. You’re good.” Bobby let go of Jody’s hand. She wiggled her fingers stiffly. 

“This is not going to be fun. It’s going to slow up my paperwork considerably.” 

“You have underlings darling. Put them to good use.” 

“I’m running a police department not Hell. I can’t just order people to do my job.” 

“I’m pretty sure you can Sheriff.” 

“It would be irresponsible of me to tell someone else to do my job.” 

“So bribe them. I hear those in law enforcement like doughnuts.” 

“Bobby, your boyfriend gives terrible advice.” 

Both men grimaced at the word. Jody’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, was that not okay?” 

Bobby shook his head. “Nah. I suppose that is what we are. It just sounds funny is all.” 

“How about paramour?” Crowley suggested. 

“No.” 

“Mon petit ami?” 

“No.” 

“Lover?” 

“You wanna make the boys piss themselves you go ahead and call me that.” 

“I can’t tell if that’s a yes or a no, Robert.” 

“That’s a no.” 

“Boy toy?” 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Stop it.” 

“Welp, I’ll be leaving.” Jody said with a smirk. “You two enjoy your evening. I’ll be back over after work tomorrow to help with the case.” 

Bobby patted her on the shoulder. “Thank you. And thanks for everything today. If it wasn’t for you those two idjits would’ve probably gotten themselves arrested or hospitalized today.” 

“If it wasn’t for me they wouldn’t have been in that situation.” 

“They would have found some other hornets’ nest to kick, I assure you.” 

“You’re probably right, but still.” 

“And if you hadn’t gotten them involved,” Bobby said, “your friend would likely be dead.” 

“Stop trying to make me feel better old man. But speaking of Nathan I’d better call him and let him know everything’s fine.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“I told him I had to leave because the town drunk and a friend of his got in a fight over a truck or something and they’re both in a holding cell and refusing to speak to the arresting officer. And for some reason the drunk likes me so I had to go delegate.” 

“I don’t think Rufus would appreciate our little spat last summer being used as an excuse.” 

“Yeah, well he doesn’t have to hear about it does he?” 

Bobby chuckled. “Nope. But he might want to hear about our harpy problem. I’ll give him a call.” 

“You, Rufus, Crowley and the Winchesters all under one roof? That’s a disaster waiting to happen.” 

“He ain’t the only one I’m callin’. We’ve got to figure out this god problem too before it gets out of hand.” 

“Oh that reminds me.” Crowley put in. “Brigid’s in upstate New York.” 

“Great.” 

* 

“Get off of me. I have to piss.” 

Crowley pulled his arm back and Bobby slipped out of bed. The moonlight shone brightly through the open window. It was fall and the air coming through it was chilly. Not that he had noticed until now. Crowley and Xenia made the bed more than a little toasty. Bobby had protested allowing the puppy up on the bed, but Sam had already let her up on his and Crowley insisted. Bobby had given up with a huff. He hadn’t regretted it. Crowley had been tossing and turning until she put her head on his knee. The demon finally stilled and Bobby scooted closer to him and put an arm over his chest. He’d woken up with their positions reversed but hadn’t noticed when it happened. The hall was warmer than his room. The floorboards creaked as he made his way to the bathroom. The boys, of course, had made a mess of it. Bobby kicked a t-shirt and pair of boxers towards the tub. They’d even managed to get toothpaste on the mirror. He was making them clean this up tomorrow. 

When he was done he shuffled back to his room. Both the dog and the demon had sprawled out in his absence. He nudged Xenia over a bit, to which she gave a little growl and wiggled closer to Crowley. He was about to tell the other man to move over when his phone started vibrating on his dresser. Given three of the five people with the number were currently in his house that left only two it could be, and either one of them calling at three in the morning was not a good sign. The screen flashed a number Bobby didn’t know. He flipped the phone open. “Singer.” He said, hoping it was a telemarketer who didn’t understand time zones. 

“Bobby. It’s Rufus. We got a problem.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a teeny tiny chapter, guys. I'm working on the next one but there's a lot of info going into it and I've been sick. See, what happens when you don't wear a mask when you clean and rip out stuff in an ancient Airstream camper full of mold and mouse poop is a prescription for antibiotics and no gumption to be awake. I'm a lot better now and am working on this and Fly By Night. So, enjoy!

“Hel is in Orlando?” Dean asked. He was leaning against the sink looking pale and worn out. He was under strict orders to eat his breakfast and go back to bed until Rufus got there, so instead of scarfing everything down like he usually did he was eating very slowly. His eggs were cold and the toast was soggy. His delay tactic was fooling no one, and Sam was filling him in on the details as quick as he could. 

“Yeah.” Sam said, not looking up from writing down names of gods on slips of paper. A US map was spread across the table and several states already had gods’ names pinned to them. 

“What is she doing there? Waiting in line for the teacup ride at Disneyworld?” 

“More like taking people for rides to the Underworld.” 

“Well that will put a damper on family vacation.” 

“She’s been going after retired couples mostly.” 

“What I can’t figure out.” Bobby interrupted, squinting at an article on the computer. “Is why they’re poppin’ up in places where they weren’t killed. Pomona for instance. She got ganked in Washington state back in eighty three. But she’s been hanging around Nashville the past few days and last night blew up the headquarters of a pesticide company.” 

“Was anyone hurt?” 

“Two janitors and a security guard have some minor burns and temporary hearing loss, but nothing worse than that.” 

Cas finally returned to the kitchen with the box of files Bobby had sent him to the basement for. “What are you doing up?” He demanded of Dean. 

“Eating.” 

Cas set the box down by Sam. He was wearing an old argyle cardigan of Bobby’s. He had complained of being cold earlier and had been walking around the house with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders knocking crap over until Bobby told him to either go back upstairs to Dean or put on something warmer. After some brief searching they found the Winchesters didn’t have anything warmer except a canvas jacket Sam offered him. Cas refused, stating it was “too bulky.” 

Bobby had sighed and went to dig through his own stuff. He’d found the sweater near the back of his closet, completely forgotten about. Karen had gotten it for him their third Christmas together. And of course he’d managed to tear a hole in the sleeve before February. He smiled and ran his fingers over the clumsy stiches where she’d fixed it. She’d always been so much better at cooking than sewing. In fact not long after, Bobby had found he had a knack for sewing and had been in charge of all their patch jobs after that. The cardigan would undoubtedly be a little short in the arms for Cas, but it’d work. He caught a whiff of her perfume when the angel had put it on. He whimsically took that as a sign she approved of the guy. Cas had actually bothered to put on pants after that and now Dean was eying him approvingly. “What’s up with the sexy librarian look?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“The sweater dude. Where did you get that?” 

“It’s Bobby’s. I was cold.” 

Sam and Bobby shared a smirk when Dean started shoveling eggs into his mouth at his normal speed. 

“You’re looking a little peaked there Cas.” Bobby said. “Sam and I have got things covered here if you want to go lie down for a bit.” Cas opened his mouth to protest, he was actually feeling better than he had in days, but he caught Bobby’s head gesture at Dean. The hunter looked like crap, but would likely protest that he was fine. 

“You’re right. I am tired. Dean and I should go take a nap.” Dean was on his last bite of eggs so Cas snatched the toast off the plate and then the plate from Dean’s hands. He set it in the sink then grabbed Dean’s hand and tugged him towards the stairs. “Dude!” Dean protested but let the other man guide him out of the kitchen. “Give me back my toast.” 

“Well that was quick.” Bobby said. 

Sam laughed. “Cas is nothing if not efficient.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so we're gearing up for some action in the next few chapters. The weather has actually given me some time to work on stuff, so hurray! We'll see how long that lasts. Anyway, I want to thank everybody for reading this and all your comments and kudos. This fic has gotten so much more interest than I ever imagined. Enjoy!

“So what? We’re just gonna do ‘capture and question’ and hope one of them knows what the hell is going on?” Rufus asked. They were all gathered around the table again. Sam’s meticulously labeled map was spread across it. Xenia was curled up in her spot by the fridge, fast asleep. 

“That’s the plan, yeah.” Bobby answered. 

“Really?” 

“You callin’ my plan stupid?” 

“No, I’m calling your plan vague.” 

“We’ve made a list of the top five that we think could have either raised everyone else or somehow be involved.” Sam said."So it's not like we're going in completely blind. As for everyone else we’ve sent people out to figure out who is who. Thanks to Rufus we know Isis is in Vegas. Oddly it seems everyone with any sort of clout is female, except Garth thinks he’s tracking Loki. We know that can’t be because Loki was Gabriel and he’s dead.” 

“So were most these guys.” Dean said. 

“Gabriel was wily.” Cas frowned at the map, leaning over Dean’s shoulder. “It is entirely possible he could be back. Not as an angel perhaps, but as his god alter ego? We should not count him out.” 

“Great.” Dean said and scrubbed a hand over his face. “The last thing we need is that asshole back in our lives.” 

“It’s hardly the last thing we need.” Sam murmured. 

“Regardless,” Bobby said, “We need to get started on our top five. We can look into Gabriel after we’re done with them. Sam? Care to share with the class?” 

“Alright.” Sam picked up his list. “We’ve got Pomona, Hel, Brigid, Freyja – at least that’s who we think it is, Isis, and maybe the Morrigan? We’re not entirely sure she’s a goddess and not a monster though.” 

“So basically you got squat.” Rufus said. 

“Well we got four identified for sure and need to handle two of them as soon as possible because they’re blowing shit up and killing people.” Bobby said. “They’re also the most powerful so far and it stands to reason the more powerful ones are involved.” 

“What about Isis?” Rufus asked. 

“You got your buddy watching her don’t you? As soon as she does something more than sip cosmos by the pool, we’ll be on her.” 

“I hate to rain on this already dreary parade.” Crowley said leaning against the doorway his phone in hand and his coat buttoned up against the cold as if he could feel it. “But seven Valkyries just met up with Hel in Florida.” 

“Nice of you to join us.” Bobby said. “Is that tidbit why you disappeared without so much as a ‘see ya later’ this morning?” His voice sounded a lot more petulant than he intended. 

“No, my dear.” Crowley said, slipping into the kitchen. “I rushed off because some moron was trying to play Sisyphus with his demon deal and another pulled the whole ‘I want to speak with your manager’ act. It’s been a day.” 

“Sounds like it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You poor thing.” Rufus said. “What do we know about Valkyries?” 

Bobby scratched his beard. “As far as I know, no one has seen one since nineteen fifty, so we probably don’t have anyone who’s dealt with them. There’s plenty of lore though, so that’s good.” 

“Do they count as goddesses?” Sam asked. “Because if they do the Morrigan probably does too.” 

“Do you have anyone watching them?” Bobby asked Crowley. The demon shook his head. 

“I’ve got people on Pomona still. But not Hel and her lady friends. The Valkyrie can sense evil, they roughed up the pair of demons I had on Hel this morning. It’s going to be difficult to get to her with them around. Hunters aren’t exactly model citizens either, they’ll sense you coming a mile away.” 

Bobby huffed. “Well, I guess that narrows down our options at any rate. We’ll deal with Pomona first.” 

* 

Crowley was being very distracting. 

“Will you keep your hands off me long enough for me to finish packing?” 

“You’re not leaving until morning. I could bother you all night and you’d still be done by then. Especially since you’re so insistent on ignoring me.” 

Bobby turned around and crossed his arms with a frown. Crowley took a step back as if he wasn’t just about to grab the hunter’s ass again. 

“Listen here princess. You can bother me as much as you want as soon as I’m done packin’. Until then, hands off.” 

Crowley held up his hands and backed away some more. “As you wish.” He sauntered to the other side of the bed and laid down on it. Bobby rolled his eyes at him. “You think you can drop in on the lovebirds for me while we’re gone?” 

“Of course. I don’t trust them with Xenia for that long.” 

“Hey, Dean managed to keep Sam alive growing up, I think he can handle our dog for a few days.” 

Crowley ‘hmm’ed doubtfully. “He’s not happy about being left behind.” 

“Well, that’s his own damn fault for being an injured idjit.” 

“He wouldn’t be able to be that far away from Castiel regardless, so it’s for the best.” 

“Yeah. He’d be distracted and call him all the time and irritate the hell out of everybody. That’s how he was that time Sam had the flu and had to stay behind.” 

Crowley gave him an odd smile. “No Robert. He physically wouldn’t be able to be that far away from his Bond Mate. It would drive him mad.” 

“Really? He was able to go to the next county over.” 

“Yes. And look what that got him. I have no doubt it was the Bond that made him distracted enough to get jumped. He’s not supposed to be that far away from Castiel. As far as the Bond is concerned his sole purpose in life is to protect his angel.” 

Bobby threw his tie into his bag, mulling that over. “They’re in for a whole load of crap when Heaven finds out aren’t they?” 

Crowley shrugged. “It depends on whether they’ve decided to write Castiel off and count their losses yet.” 

“For everyone’s sake I hope they have.” 

Crowley nodded. “Me too.” He moaned as he stretched out on the bed. The t shirt he’d borrowed from Bobby rode up a little and he smirked when he caught Bobby looking. “Now are you almost done? I have a very busy night planned and it should have started half an hour ago.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! So I've been very busy with mediocre waitressing and a zoology class and all that jazz but pretty soon I'll be starting my senior year of college and back into the swing of homework and fic writing. This chapter is going to be the only one until sometime next month, but I figured you all had waited long enough. Enjoy!

Bobby remembered why he didn’t do long hunts anymore. 

“Seriously Rufus. Are you about done? We got places to be, monsters to kill.” 

From inside the bathroom stall Rufus replied, “They’ll still be there. Let me finish my business in peace.” 

“You’ve been ‘busy’ for now on twenty minutes.” 

“If you’re so antsy to get going, go! I’ll catch up.” 

“Oh, yeah? When? Tomorrow?” 

“Bobby Singer, you haul your ass out of this bathroom and leave me the hell alone!” 

“Fine. You have ten minutes, then me and Sam are leaving without you.” 

“Deal. Now, git.” 

Sam had sprawled himself over one of the rest stop's picnic tables, his hair and his legs draping over the ends. He was talking on the phone. “How are we supposed to get a Viking spear in the southern United States? … I’m not robbing another museum Dean… I don’t know, she might. I’ll call her… No, I’m totally going to say I need it to kill a few Valkyrie in Orlando, of course I’ll come up with something… But it has to have belonged to a warrior that was pure of heart? That might be harder than we think to get a hold of. I mean, it’s not like spears come with ‘my original owner was a good guy’ certificates… Yeah, if she has one she probably would know its history, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s accurate. And who knows, what we consider a decent person they might not. What? Oh, yeah. Just call me back when you’re done. Bye.” 

“So Dean’s stopped pouting and is keepin’ busy I take it?” 

“Yeah, he’s found a few ways it’s claimed that Valkyries can be killed. The easiest seems to be finding a Viking spear that was owned by a warrior whose spirit resides in Valhalla. The spear has to be dipped in mead and wielded by someone who is pure of heart. Only those with pure intent or the innocent can kill a Valkyrie.” 

“Yeah, that sounds simple.” 

“I get the feeling that Valhalla is a bit more exclusive than Heaven.” 

Bobby nodded. “Death must be by battle or childbirth. I’d say that shortens the line a bit.” 

“So where are we going to find someone who can kill them?” 

“I don’t know. My best guesses are Jody or Garth, but I’m still not sure they’d be 'pure' enough.” 

“It all seems a little odd doesn’t it? I mean, it’s not even that tricky to kill an angel. What if they’re not, you know, bad?” 

“They’re killing people Sam.” 

“Hel’s killing people. And have you noticed who she’s going after? World War Two and Korean War veterans and their spouses. What if in some weird way she thinks she’s helping them?” 

“It’s a thought.” 

“Also, she has brothers. And honestly I’m more concerned about them coming back, Hel is the responsible one.” 

“Yeah. And isn’t their daddy Loki?” 

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Yep.” 

“Then maybe you should track down Garth and see if he really is following him. Gabriel seemed to enjoy messing with you, maybe you can convince him to deal with his wayward children.” 

“He’s supposedly in Virginia. I could head there after we take care of Pomona.” 

Bobby shook his head. “You should head there now. Rufus and I have got this. We need to get on figurin’ out Hel’s motivations as soon as possible and if Gabriel can help speed up that process we need to find him.” 

Sam nodded and sat up. “Alright. Are you sure you guys don’t need help?” 

Bobby clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re good kid. And even if we get in a tight spot, I happen to have the King of Hell on speed dial. You and Garth worry about yourselves. The Trickster King ain’t quite so cuddly.” 

Sam snorted. “Wow.” 

“What?” 

“You considering Crowley cuddly. I’d love to see you say that to his face.” 

“He’s like a freakin’ octopus!” Bobby protested. Sam laughed. 

“Still,” Sam said, “He’d be so offended. He’d puff up all indignant and insist on his evilness.” 

Bobby cracked a smile. “Yeah he would.” 

Sam stood up and stretched. “So since you’re sending me off does that mean I get to borrow your car?” 

“Well Rufus sure as hell ain’t gonna let you take his truck. Help me get my stuff out of it and then you can head out.” 

* 

“What the hell are you doing in my truck Singer?” 

“I find your musk comforting.” Bobby deadpanned without looking up from his western. Rufus rolled his eyes. 

“Did ya piss Sam off? Or vice-versa?” 

“I sent him after Gabriel.” 

Rufus hopped in the truck, slamming the door loudly. “You sent a Winchester to deal with angel shit? How original.” 

“He might be the key to dealing with Hel.” 

“Alright. So how are we going to stop Pomona with one less person?” 

Bobby grinned, which made Rufus squint suspiciously at him. Sam had given him an idea and he certainly hoped it worked out.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally another chapter! I've been so swamped with schoolwork recently I haven't had any time to write. I finally got a weekend with no essays to do. I've got rehearsal for my school's musical almost every night so that's cutting into my 'me time' as well. Things have been crazy but it's cooling down a little now. My professors have cut down on assignments so we all have time to work on our final papers. I'm sure plenty of you all know how that is.   
> Anyway I have a question. Would you all like a Sam POV chapter or shall we stick with Bobby? Either way Gabriel is coming up soon! Enjoy!

“This is the stupidest damn plan I ever heard in my life, and I was part of that San Antonio debacle back in ninety two.” Rufus grumbled. He and Bobby sat in a little café only two blocks down from the headquarters of the company, NuGrowth. The building that Pomona had attacked hardly looked scathed from the outside. Except for the crime scene tape around parts of it, one could easily not realize anything had happened. The newspaper Bobby was reading however screamed the headline “Environmental Activist Bombs NuGrowth.” A very blurry picture of their goddess took up half the page.

“Aw, come on Rufus. If this is gonna work on any god, it’ll be this hippie. We just have to find her before she attacks some other corporation.” 

Rufus glared at him over his coffee. “It’s cute how you think this is gonna work. If she’s like any of the others gods I’ve had the misfortune of meeting an ‘oh please Miss Goddess will you stop destroying shit’ ain’t going to cut it.” 

Bobby tugged on his tie. “If she don’t agree to our terms we’ll gank her, I promise.” 

“Yeah, and what if she knocks us on our asses and wraps us up in poison ivy or some shit, before you even get a word in edgewise?” 

“That’s what I’m here to make sure doesn’t happen.” Crowley said, smoothly slipping into the booth beside Bobby. 

“What are you doing here?” Bobby asked. Noticing the new addition, their waitress headed towards the table. Crowley waved her off before answering. 

“Sam called. Said you two probably needed backup. What with the insane plan and all.” 

This sparked some protest from the hunters, which Crowley ignored. He pulled a slip of paper from his suit jacket pocket. “My people got with her people and agreed on a time and location for this little meet up. I -” 

“You did what!?” Bobby spluttered. 

“She has people?” Rufus asked incredulously. 

“Nymphs actually. Although not many and not well organized. However they didn’t seem overly hostile, merely cautious. If she’s anything like her followers I’d say we have about a seventy percent chance of this actually working.” 

Bobby scowled but didn’t defend his plan. Rufus threw his napkin on the table. “Well,” he said. “it’s better odds than San Antonio.” 

* 

Of course they were meeting at a freaking park. The first tinges of yellow and red were spreading through the leaves and the people in the park were wearing an odd assortment of everything from shorts to jackets. The three of them looked a little out of place in their suits, sharing a bench waiting for a goddess to show up. Bobby eventually shed his jacket and tie and Rufus followed suit. Crowley just rolled his eyes and kept scrolling on his phone. 

Bobby thought with amusement that they must look like some businessmen or lawyers or something waiting on someone to show up so they could go to lunch. He considered some alternate universe where this was the case. Lawyers, he decided. Crowley would be into contract law. Rufus would be a defense attorney probably. General practice would work well enough for Bobby. Turner, Singer & Crowley. That had a nice ring to it actually. 

Rufus elbowed him in the ribs. “Looks like our goddess is here.” 

The newspaper photo had not done her the least bit of justice. She appeared to be in her late forties with streaks of silver snaking through her mostly auburn hair, she wore a dark green sweater dress and brown boots. As she got closer Bobby could see that her earrings were little golden apples and her necklace was a leaf pendant. If autumn were a person, it would look like the goddess Pomona. 

“Good afternoon gentlemen.” She said frostily, stopping a few feet from their bench. 

Bobby and Rufus murmured their ‘afternoons’ but Crowley stood and bowed. 

“Thank you for meeting with us, O Lady of Orchards.” 

She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “What other choice did I have O King of Hell?” She said snippily. “Now let’s cut the crap and get down to brass tacks shall we?” 

Crowley looked slightly taken aback while Rufus grinned and whispered to Bobby, “I think I might like this chick.” 

Bobby stood and crossed his arms, mirroring her. “Alright.” He said. “Are you plannin’ on blowing up any other businesses in the near future?” 

Pomona grimaced. “Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t intend to do that in the first place?” 

“Maybe.” 

Pomona stood up straighter and nodded. 

“When I first awoke it was if no time had passed. I truly thought I was still where I last remembered being. Back then I was in a warehouse and yes, I truly intended to blow up the place. It was a NuGrowth facility in Washington state. They were about to put on the market a new fertilizer that they knew destroyed the reproductive capabilities of fruit trees that were not one of the region’s three major breeds. It would have been catastrophic. Unfortunately I wasn’t exactly subtle in my plans. Several hunters ambushed me in the warehouse before I had a chance to explain myself. The last thing I remembered was being stabbed through the heart. I was disoriented and the spell was already brewing under my skin. I let it out before I had any idea where I was. Although I have no remorse over the accidental damage I caused the NuGrowth headquarters, I regret that there were people harmed. I have no plans for further violent action.” 

“That’s good.” Bobby said. “So, you have any idea who might have brought you back?” 

She cocked her head curiously at him. “I was under the assumption I had simply regenerated. I’ve done it before, but I suppose this one was much more abrupt than usual. Although the timing is about right.” 

“About right for what?” Rufus asked suspiciously. He might have liked her but he wasn’t about to trust this goddess as easily as Bobby apparently had. 

“My regeneration.” She said. “But you think someone brought me back?” 

“Well, you ain’t the only one.” Bobby said, shooting Rufus a look. Don’t mess this up. “Pretty much every goddess you can think of is back, all at about the same time. It can’t be a coincidence. ” 

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well, there are quite a few possibilities. I’m assuming Lucifer is still locked up given you’re in charge of Hell.” She said to Crowley. He nodded. 

“Him and Michael both. The rest of the archangels are dead, unless Gabriel survived as Loki.” He said. 

“Loki is Gabriel!?” She exclaimed. 

“Afraid so.” Bobby said. 

“I’d add him to your suspects then. With both Norse and Abrahamic power behind him he’s more than powerful enough to prematurely raise slain gods.” 

“He might still be dead though.” Rufus said. 

“Still.” She said. “Better safe than sorry.” 

“Anybody else we should add to the list?” Bobby asked. 

“Kali. Zeus. Thor. Anyone who still has worshipers or enough people who know their mythology for them to be mentioned on a regular basis.” 

“An active religion I get, but why would an often mentioned god be powerful?” Bobby asked. 

“The pagans are like Tinkerbelle.” Crowley said. “They must be believed in and invoked to have any power. It doesn’t necessarily have to be prayers though. Some kid in Wisconsin writing an essay will do.” 

“That’s pretty much how I get along.” Pomona said. “I get enough inaccurate mentions as the ‘Roman Demeter’ to keep me going. Plus there are a few towns and businesses named after me.” 

Rufus stood. Bobby looked from the hunter to the goddess to the demon and then back to the goddess. “Well, thanks for your cooperation.” 

“That’s that?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“That’s that.” Bobby agreed. He pulled a business card from his pocket. “If you hear anything more let us know won’t you?” 

“Certainly.” She gave them a curt nod and turned to continue along the path. They watched her disappear around some trees. 

“Let’s hope Sam is actually tracking Gabriel” Bobby said, “or else it looks like it’s back to the drawing board.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So it's been a while. And I appreciate all the encouraging comments to keep going. I just haven't been able to get enough time to myself to really settle into writing. I've been working on a few other things but I think the fact that I haven't published any of them yet made them easier to work on? Because I don't have to really pay attention to my own plot and make sure everything matches up? I don't know. I kind of hit some writers block with all my published stuff too so that didn't help. Anyway, this chapter didn't turn out quite like I was expecting. Everything's a bit more tense and Gabriel's a bit toned down, but I figure that is fitting for someone who isn't exactly sure who he is anymore. Maybe Sam can help him out a little with that. ;)   
> Anyway, enjoy and don't be afraid to comment!

Sam was lost. He had no idea how it had happened, he hadn’t turned off the state route he was on but the road had started twisting and turning and when trees and creeks and cows showed up he got suspicious. After checking his phone’s GPS he found he was about fifty miles south of where he should be. Thankfully Bobby’s Mustang hadn’t run out of gas yet because there appeared to be no gas stations anywhere around. Sam tried calling Garth again but the phone just kept ringing until he hung up. An hour later he should have been on the right path but his phone stated he’d only gone ten miles. That couldn’t possibly be. Maybe the map was glitching. Dean kept an atlas in the trunk for this very thing. Sam had made fun of him for it and called him a Luddite. Dean had claimed nostalgia and practicality. 

Sam’s stomach growled when he pulled over next to a road sign stating he was on the crossroads of Accommodation and McCormick. He wondered idly why Accommodation was named that as he grabbed one of their boxes of emergency granola bars. He wiggled the atlas from underneath a bag of rock salt. He made himself comfortable in the passenger seat, his legs stretched out into the grass, the box of granola bars wedged between his side and the seat and the thick map flipped to Virginia. He had a vague idea of where he was at. All he had to do was find the road he was on. 

Three granola bars later he decided to turn on the radio. Maybe a local DJ could shed some light on where the nearest town was. 

_“Honey! Oh, sugar sugar! You are my candy girl! And you got me wanting you!” ___

Probably an oldies station and unlikely to have much talking. Sam turned the dial. Static and then–

_“Pour some sugar on me! Come on fry me up. Pour your sugar on me, in the name of love!” ___

Nope. He needed a country or mix station playing new music.

_“Yeah, you show me good loving! Make it alright! Need a little sweetness in my life. Your sugar! Yes, please. Won't you come and put it down on me!” ___

Maroon 5 was definitely promising. Sam left it there and kept looking for Accommodation on the map. Eventually a low rumble and a light crunch of gravel signaled someone coming up McCormick. Sam glanced up at the green pickup and then back down at his map. He expected it to pass, but the driver stopped a little ways down the road and got out. Sam watched him curiously. The tall burly man glanced at the field full of mottled yellow and green soybeans. Then he looked at Sam and started walking toward him. Sam tried to appear nonchalant and a little confused.

“You alright there kid?” The guy called when he got closer.

“Yes sir, just a little lost. You live around here?” Sam replied. The older man was obviously a farmer, with his beat up baseball cap and worn out jeans.

“Sure do. What ya looking for?”

“At this point I’m not exactly sure. But somewhere with a gas station and a diner would be a great start.”

“Well you’re already pointed the right direction. Just let me eyeball my beans a minute and you can follow me into town.”

“Alright. Cool. Thanks!”

* 

The farmer lead him to a little town called Tayorsville. He pulled into a gravel parking lot in front of a tiny white building and rolled his window down. Sam did the same.

“Here you are son. The gas station’s just a little bit farther up the road. You won’t have any trouble findin’ it. Good luck on the rest of your journey!” He waved and pulled away.

“Thanks!” Sam called. He parked properly and got out of the car. There were no other cars in the lot but the sign on the door said, ‘Sorry we’re Open!’ and the lights were on. The bell above the door rang when Sam went inside.

“I’ll be out in a minute! Seat yourself!” A voice called out. 

“Alright!” Sam set himself down in the corner. The place was done up in a kitschy farmhouse style, with red checked wallpaper and glass chickens on shelves. A beautiful cherry pie glistened on the counter by the cash register protected under its glass dome. Sam chuckled to himself. He’d get a slice and take a picture on his phone and send it to Dean, just to be rude. Sam dug in his pocket to get his phone out. 

The cook emerged from the back room and made his way toward the counter. He leaned against it and waited for the tall man to look up from awkwardly maneuvering his phone out of his pants. He hadn’t been expecting the lanky long-haired hunter, but stranger things had happened. He watched Sam Winchester’s eyes grow wide in surprise and recognition, and – was that relief? 

“Howdy stranger.” 

“Gabriel?” Sam was up like a shot. He didn’t come any closer though. Uncertain as to whether the whiskey brown eyes watching him even belonged to the same creature as before. 

Gabriel smiled at him like someone who was about to tell you that they’d broken something you cared about and they were very sorry about it. 

“Well that’s what the name tag says kiddo, but only because it sounds more low-key than Loki. I’m not an angel anymore.” 

Sam nodded, unsurprised. “Cas figured you’d be back as a god.” 

Gabe laughed bitterly. “How is little brother? They throw him out yet?” 

“Not exactly.” 

“They will.” 

“He knows.” 

Gabe nodded to himself and tapped a knuckle against the counter. “So why are you here Sam? I’ve been minding my own business. I haven’t done anything to attract a hunter’s attention.” 

“Someone in Richmond has your MO so I was headed there.” 

Gabe frowned and crossed his arms. “Well we’re not in Richmond, so how did you find me?” 

Sam took a few steps toward Gabe. “Don’t act all innocent. You lead me here.” 

“I did no such thing.” At least he didn’t think he did. He was still getting used to the pagan magic running through him without any sort of angelic barrier. It did tend to stray. 

“Really? I somehow ended up way south from where I intended to be, then my GPS stopped working right, but a farmer brought me here. And the music? I didn’t even process it until I saw you.” 

“What music?” 

“Everything on the radio was sugar related. That’s practically your calling card. That and food related porn.” 

Gabe rolled his eyes. “I promise you, there have been no tricks for the Trickster. Not since I got back. I’ve went straight.” He winked at Sam. “Euphemistically speaking of course.” 

Sam rolled his eyes this time. Although he was reminded of why he was looking for Gabriel in the first place. “So when did you get back?” 

“Why? Were you expecting a postcard?” Gabe clasped his hands under his chin. “Dear Sammy and Deano, I had so much fun last time. We should do brunch.” 

“No I don’t blame you for hiding out but –“ Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, so get this…”


End file.
